We begin on Daf 14, amud 1, six lines from the top: “Rabbi Yitzchak bar Ada said—and some say Rabbi Yitzchak the son of Rabbi Idi said.” From where do we know that David HaMelech used to rise early in the morning with a harp? He kept the harp above his bed. How do we know this? The verse says, “Awake, my honor; awake, harp and lyre.” He explains that this means: Do not be heavy in your bed like other kings. “My honor” can be understood as “my heaviness”: “Awake, you heavy one! Awake, harp and lyre.” David says, “I will awaken the dawn.” Normally, the dawn awakens people, but David meant the opposite: he would awaken the dawn.
Let us return to what we discussed earlier. When the Jewish people left Egypt, Moshe told Pharaoh that the final plague would occur “about midnight.” This implies that Moshe Rabbeinu did not know the exact midpoint of the night, which is why he said “about midnight.” The Gemara asks: But David HaMelech knew it. How could David HaMelech know something that Moshe Rabbeinu did not know? The answer is that David also did not know it on his own; he had a harp, and the harp gave him a signal.
The Gemara then says that Moshe Rabbeinu actually did know exactly when midnight was. He knew it even without the harp. Moshe had that knowledge, but he still needed the harp to wake him. In other words, he knew precisely when midnight was, but he needed something to awaken him, like an alarm clock.
If Moshe did know the exact time of midnight, why did he say “about midnight”? The Gemara answers that Moshe knew the exact time, but Pharaoh’s people did not. If Moshe Rabbeinu had said, “Exactly at midnight,” and the Egyptians calculated the time slightly earlier, they would have said that Moshe was a liar because the plague had not yet arrived. To avoid making himself vulnerable to the Egyptians’ lack of knowledge, he said “about midnight.” That way, they could not challenge him on a technicality.
We learn from here that a person should train himself to say, “I do not know.” Otherwise, he may be caught in a lie or in his own words. Moshe Rabbeinu knew the exact time, but not everything one knows has to be stated explicitly. Sometimes it is better to say that one does not know, so that one will not be caught. If Moshe Rabbeinu had said, “It is 11:58,” and the plague had not yet arrived, the Egyptians would have challenged him. It was therefore better for him to say that he did not know the precise moment.
The Maharsha gives another reason why Moshe Rabbeinu said “about midnight.” Moshe warned about the plague on the night before it occurred. The plague occurred on the night of the fourteenth, while Moshe was speaking on the preceding night. He told the Jewish people that the Holy One, Blessed be He, had said, “Tomorrow, at about midnight, I will go out into the midst of Egypt.” Thus, “about midnight” could be understood as referring to the corresponding time on the following night. The Gemara ultimately establishes that Moshe was standing at midnight when he said this.
The Gemara then quotes a verse from the Prophets in which David says, “Guard my soul, for I am pious.” Rabbi Levi and Rabbi Yitzchak disagree about why David considered himself pious. One explanation is that David said: “Am I not pious? All the kings of the East sleep until three hours into the day, while I rise at midnight.”
Another explanation is that David said: “Am I not pious? Other kings sit in groups, in meetings and conferences, for their honor and glory. My hands, however, are dirty with blood.” Women would come to David with questions about whether their blood was permitted or forbidden. They would bring him the actual embryo, and he had to rule on the matter. If it had reached a certain stage of development, it was considered a miscarriage, and he had to determine the ruling. This involved questions of ritual impurity for fourteen days and questions of ritual purity. They also brought him the embryonic sac. Sometimes the sac indicated that there had been a child, while at other times it was empty. David therefore had to rule whether it constituted a birth or not, in order to permit the woman to her husband.
David said that he was not like the other kings, who sat in their glory. His hands were soiled with blood and with the other secretions involved in determining whether a woman was permitted. Moreover, everything he did was subject to consultation. For every halachic ruling, he first asked his rabbi, “My rabbi, did I rule correctly?” The word “judgment” generally refers to monetary cases: “Did I correctly rule that this person was liable? Did I rule correctly in matters of ritual impurity and purity?” David was not embarrassed to consult his rabbi. He would speak before the sages of the Torah and was not ashamed to seek their opinion.
The Sage taught that Mephibosheth’s name was not originally Mephibosheth; his name was Ishbosheth. Why was his name changed to Mephibosheth? Because he embarrassed David HaMelech in halachah. Sometimes Mephibosheth would tell him, “You are mistaken; that is not the halachah.” The name Mephibosheth can therefore be understood as referring to words that came from his mouth and embarrassed David in matters of halachah.
This is what is meant by the statement that David was subject to his rabbi. He followed the halachah, and he had a son who was a Torah scholar. His name was Kelab. Rabbi Yochanan said that his real name was not Kelab but Daniel. Why was he called Kelab? Because he would silence Mephibosheth in matters of halachah. “Kelab” can be understood as “he embarrassed” or “he silenced,” while “av” means father. In this context, the verse means that Kelab embarrassed his teacher, Mephibosheth, who was the father of wisdom. He was able to put Mephibosheth in his place.
David said, “My son is a Torah scholar, and my heart is happy.” Why was he happy? Because his son was able to answer those who challenged him. David was saying that he hoped he would merit the World to Come. The Sage taught that a person should be careful with the word “if only,” because if one examines the verse in Tehillim, there are dots over certain letters in the word “if only.” The letters without dots are the lamed and the alef, as though the verse were saying, “I do not believe that I have a portion in the World to Come.”
But only a moment earlier David had called himself pious. The answer is that he was saying, “I do not know whether I have a portion or not.” The righteous are always concerned that they may stumble and lose their portion. David was pious, but he was constantly worried that perhaps he would commit a sin the following day and thereby lose his portion. Thus, one can be pious while also being cautious and concerned about losing one’s portion.
Where do we see this concept? In one passage, God tells Yaakov, “I am with you, I will protect you, and I will be with you in everything you do.” What, then, was Yaakov afraid of? Yaakov was concerned that perhaps he had committed a sin and forfeited the guarantee he had been given. We see from here that the righteous are always concerned about their spiritual situation.
We find a similar idea in connection with the entry into the Land of Israel. In the Song at the Sea, the verse says, “Until the people pass through; until the people pass through.” This refers to two entries into the Land of Israel. The first “until they pass through” refers to the entry in the time of Yehoshua, and the second refers to the entry in the time of Ezra. Ezra’s entry should have been as miraculous as Yehoshua’s. When Yehoshua entered, the sun stopped, and there were miracles involving the great stones. Yet when Ezra returned, he did not enter with glory. On the contrary, he came under the rule of Paras and Mada and Koresh, and it was not an easy entry. What happened? Sin changed the program. We see that sometimes the righteous are concerned about the future, and sometimes sin actually causes what was supposed to happen to change.
Now let us return to the analysis of the Mishnah. The Sages said that the deadline for reciting the Shema is midnight. Where did the Sages derive this opinion? Which earlier opinion did they follow? The Mishnah contains two other opinions. One opinion says that the Shema may be recited only until the first watch. We explained that the first watch is the first third of the night. The other opinion, that of Rabban Gamliel, says that it may be recited until morning, until dawn.
We understand those two opinions because the Torah says, “When you lie down.” There are two ways to interpret this. It may mean the time when people go to sleep. Generally, people go to sleep by the first watch. For example, if we say that the first watch begins at ten o’clock at night, whoever plans to go to sleep is already going to bed at that time. That is the basis of the first opinion. Rabban Gamliel understands “when you lie down” to mean the entire time that people are sleeping, which extends until morning.
But what is the basis for midnight? Midnight seems to be a middle position, belonging to neither interpretation. The Gemara asks: Whom do the Sages follow? If they follow Rabbi Eliezer, who understands “when you lie down” as the time when people go to sleep, they should rule like the first opinion and set the deadline at the first watch. If they follow Rabban Gamliel, who understands it as the time when people are sleeping, they should allow the recitation until morning.
The answer is that in principle the Sages agree with Rabban Gamliel: “When you lie down” refers to the time that people are sleeping, and the Shema should therefore be recited until morning. However, the Sages established midnight as a protective measure. If a person knows that he has until morning, he may say, “I have plenty of time. I will eat something, take a nap, and do this or that,” and he may fall asleep and miss the Shema. Once he knows that he has only until midnight, he will recite it promptly.
The Baraita gives a vivid example. A person comes home from work and says, “Let me go home first, eat a little, drink a little”—in those days, people would drink wine—“take a short nap, pray, and then sleep.” He may fall asleep and miss the opportunity. But if he knows that the time is short, he will go to the synagogue. If he is accustomed to study the Chumash, he may first complete his study, then recite the Shema, and afterward go to dinner. This is the reason the Rabbis established the fence: they did not want a person to become absorbed in his eating and sleeping and lose the opportunity to recite the Shema.
Whenever a person acts contrary to the words of the Sages, we know that he is liable for punishment, but the Sages do not usually say that he is liable for death. Why, in this case, do they use such a strong expression and say that one who violates their enactment is liable for death? The reason is that here the Sages needed to emphasize the matter more strongly. They knew that a person naturally falls asleep. Someone who comes home tired from work may sit on the couch and doze off. Therefore, they used a stronger expression: if you treat the deadline lightly and do not recite the Shema at the proper time, you are liable for death. This was intended to ensure that the person would not fall asleep.
There is another reason for this strong language: to exclude the opinion that the evening prayer is optional. Later, in the fourth chapter, we will learn of a dispute about whether the evening prayer is voluntary or obligatory. The Sages did not want someone to think that since the evening prayer is voluntary, failing to pray it is insignificant. By saying that one who violates the Sages’ enactment is liable for death, they emphasized that the evening prayer is a serious matter and not something minor.
Now we will take one line from the long Baraita that we just read. The Baraita says that a person comes home from work, goes to the synagogue, recites the Shema, and then prays the Amidah. This implies that the obligatory recitation of the Shema comes before the Amidah. There is a major dispute about the precise order of the evening Shema and the Amidah.
One opinion says that the Shema is supposed to come before the Amidah, followed by the blessings of the Shema, particularly the blessing of Redemption, which is considered one of the blessings surrounding the Shema. After the blessing of Redemption, one begins the Amidah. This is so that the evening service will resemble the morning service, in which we recite the blessing of Redemption and then begin the Amidah. According to this opinion, the same order should be followed at night: recite the Shema and its blessings, conclude with the blessing of Redemption, and immediately begin the Amidah. This is what the Baraita indicates when it says that one recites the Shema and then prays.
This supports Rabbi Yochanan, who says that a person who is careful to connect Redemption to prayer not only in the morning but also in the evening merits the World to Come. They derive this as an allusion from two chapters of Tehillim, chapters 19 and 20: the final verse of one chapter leads directly into the next chapter. This teaches the idea of connecting one matter directly to the next.
The concept is that when a person is coming closer and closer to the King, the love between them becomes stronger. As one prays, the relationship reaches its highest point when God redeems the person. At that moment, the person is at the door. What should he do—walk away? He should knock on the door and enter, and then ask God for his needs. That is the concept of connecting Redemption to prayer. Once a person has come so close, if he walks away, it is as though he has broken the entire connection. Rabbi Yochanan therefore teaches that this connection is required not only in the morning, when everyone agrees that it is made, but also in the evening.
This explains why the Gemara said in the Baraita that one recites the Shema, meaning the Shema together with its blessings, then recites the blessing of Redemption, and immediately afterward prays the Amidah. The Gemara will soon ask about “Hashkivenu.”
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi says, “The prayers were instituted in the middle.” He disagrees and says that the Amidah is recited first and the Shema afterward. “In the middle” means that one recites the Shema, which we already know, and then prays the Amidah. His opinion is that one prays the evening Amidah and afterward recites the Shema and its blessings. He holds that one does not have to connect Redemption to prayer in the evening; that connection is required only in the morning.
Thus, according to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, “the prayers were instituted in the middle” means that in the morning one recites the Shema and then the Amidah, which creates the connection between Redemption and prayer. In the evening, however, one recites the Amidah first and then the Shema and its blessings. There are therefore two Amidot back-to-back, followed by the Shema and its blessings. According to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, one does not connect Redemption to prayer in the evening.
What is the basis of their dispute? It may be based on verses, or it may be based on logic. The logical argument is as follows: When we left Egypt, when did we leave? We left at night, although the main redemption occurred during the day, when the sea split. Since we left Egypt at night, one must mention Redemption at night as well. The opposing view says that the actual redemption did not take place until the morning, so the nighttime redemption is not the primary one.
Some say that the dispute is based on the verses. The verse juxtaposes “when you lie down” with “when you rise.” This creates a comparison between the evening Shema and the morning Shema. Just as, when one rises in the morning, the blessing of Redemption is close to the Amidah, so too, when one goes to sleep, the blessing of Redemption should be close to the evening Amidah.
If Rabbi Yochanan says that one must connect Redemption to prayer in the evening, why do we not actually conclude with the blessing of Redemption and immediately begin the Amidah? In the evening we have two blessings before the Shema and two afterward. The two blessings afterward are the blessing of Redemption and Hashkivenu. If the evening service requires the connection of Redemption to prayer, why do we recite Hashkivenu between the blessing of Redemption and the Amidah? The answer is that Hashkivenu is also considered part of the Redemption. It is an extension of the blessing and does not constitute an interruption. The Rabbis established it as part of the Redemption, and therefore it may be recited before the Amidah.
The Kaddish is also considered part of that extension. This requires us to say that the Rabbis established certain additions as extensions of the Redemption. Why? We also do not say the full concluding verse of the Redemption in the evening in the same way that it is said in the morning. Instead, we recite Hashkivenu. That is also considered an extension of the prayer, allowing us to maintain the connection. The same principle applies to the additions that the Rabbis established as extensions.
Earlier we mentioned that a person who recites the relevant passage three times a day is assured of a portion in the World to Come. Why? Perhaps it is because the passage is arranged according to the sequence of the alphabet. Passages arranged according to the alphabet are important because David HaMelech wrote them in that form so that people would remember them. Why did he want people to remember them? Because they are important. The passage also contains all twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet, with which the world was created, and this makes it especially significant.
We therefore recite the passage three times. We find eight alefs, eight bets, eight gimels, and so on. When we are looking for an alphabetically arranged prayer, it is especially appropriate for the prayer for livelihood. One might ask why we do not recite another alphabetically arranged passage. The answer given is that this particular passage has the special importance of the alphabetical order.
Rabbi Yochanan asks why there is no letter nun in the alphabetical sequence. The verse moves from one letter to the next without a nun, and the next verse begins, “Your kingdom is a kingdom for all worlds, and Your dominion is throughout every generation.” The answer is that the letter nun represents falling. David did not want to allude to the downfall of the Jewish people. The verse would otherwise suggest that the Jewish people had fallen and would not rise again.
Others interpret the omission positively. When the verse says that the Jewish people have fallen, it means that they will not continue falling. On the contrary, they will rise. Rabbi Yitzchak says that even though David did not write the letter nun in its proper place, he rescued it in the following verse, which says, “God supports all who fall.” He did not place the nun directly in the sequence, but he included its message in the next verse, where God supports and catches everyone who falls.
Now we discuss the power of the angels. The greatness of Michael is greater than what is said about Gabriel. Regarding Michael, the verse says that one of the seraphim flew to him. The expression indicates that Michael could reach his destination with one flight. Regarding Gabriel, however, the verse describes him as arriving with two flights. Thus, Michael is described as reaching his destination with one flight, while Gabriel requires two.
How do we know that the first angel mentioned is Michael? The Gemara then compares this with the Angel of Death. The Angel of Death is described as taking eight steps to reach a person. This indicates that God is patient with the Angel of Death and gives a person time to repent; He does not immediately take the person. The process is therefore longer. At the time of a plague, however, the process is ready to occur immediately. Amen.